


An Exercise in Control

by wyomingnot



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-29
Updated: 2004-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-03 08:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyomingnot/pseuds/wyomingnot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tell me, Malfoy. Do you really think you're in control of this situation?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Exercise in Control

**Author's Note:**

> A late Coil Spring Challenge entry: 'Okay, so yes. Halloween!fic. masks and costumes. dark corners and jack-o-lanterns. something pagan.' Um. Close enough, I hope.
> 
> Thanks to [everyone](http://www.livejournal.com/users/wyoming_knott/friends) for the hand holding and reassurance. A special thank you for [](http://lauramcewan.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lauramcewan.livejournal.com/)**lauramcewan**, beta goddess extraordinaire!.

Blaise could feel the stare from across the Great Hall. He took a lazy sip of his drink, wishing he had thought to bring something to spike it with, intoxicant charms being warded against on school grounds. When Professor Snape walked past a moment later, Blaise stopped him.

"Professor?"

Severus Snape was on his way out, away from the Halloween Ball. He, too, was wishing for stronger drink, fully intending to indulge once he got back to his quarters. "Yes, Zabini?" he answered impatiently.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I was hoping you could answer a question," Blaise said earnestly. A raised eyebrow was the only response, and Blaise plowed on ahead. "Why is Professor McGonagall staring at me?"

Snape snorted and smirked at his student. "She is contemplating the authenticity of your costume."

"Oh!" Blaise brightened. "It's completely authentic. Well, not the boots, obviously. But the rest... I even have kin in..." He was interrupted by a sharp cough from Snape.

"I wouldn't doubt that, boy. You've always been so very thorough," Snape said. "Perhaps I should phrase it differently. She was wondering if you were *wearing* the kilt authentically." He gave a pointed look at Blaise's kilt.

"I..." Blaise started, then stopped when he realized what Snape was getting at. He shot a startled look at Professor McGonagall and fled the room. Snape smiled. It wasn't often he could get any sort of response from Zabini.

***

Blaise had no destination in mind when he left the Great Hall. Just... away. He wasn't ready to return to the dormitory quite yet, though. Despite his embarrassment, he truly did enjoy the sensation of going commando. He stalked through the corridors, eventually making his way outside.

It was a fairly warm night for October, leaving Blaise glad he had chosen to wear the cotton shirt and not the other variation his uncle had sent. He wasn't sure what PVC was, but he knew what fetish wear was and didn't think the staff would approve of such a thing (he felt he was pushing limits as it was with the tall lace-up boots).

He finally stopped walking behind greenhouse two. He leaned back against the structure and fumbled in his sporran for his cigarettes. He lit one with his gold Zippo lighter (yet another gift from Uncle Tony - the man was determined to spoil him). Even alone in the dark he preferred the Muggle way to an _incendio_. He inhaled deeply, trying not to think about Professor McGonagall pondering what was under his kilt, a muttered "fuck" on the exhale.

The sentiment echoed from around the corner, only with a distinctly different tone to it. Blaise held his cigarette behind him and peered around the corner. His embarrassment immediately dissipated at the sight of Harry Potter and Justin Finch-Fletchley going at it up against greenhouse three. He couldn't identify Harry's costume, some sort of Muggle thing, he supposed, with a large hat apparently knocked to the ground. Justin appeared to be wearing just his school robes and shoes, his bare legs wrapped around Harry's waist.

Blaise just stood and watched.

A movement on the other side of the scene before him caught his eye. Malfoy. Lurking in the dark, also watching. Draco moved out into the open, but Harry and Justin took no notice. Harry's thrusts and breathing were growing faster. He looked to be just a breath from coming when Draco spoke.

"Get a room, already," he said. "The castle's full of 'em." Harry froze, and Justin uncrossed his ankles, bringing his legs back down.

Harry didn't turn his head. "Piss off, Malfoy," he spat. Justin remained silent.

"Do I need to go get Professor Snape?" Blaise couldn't see Draco's face clearly, but he heard the sneer.

Justin spoke quietly. "C'mon, Harry... let's just go." He plucked Harry's hat off the ground and led Harry away, shooting Malfoy a glare over his shoulder.

Malfoy stood there smirking. Harry's and Justin's footsteps faded after a moment. A nearby castle door slammed, and Draco turned to look directly at Blaise.

Blaise took a last drag off the cigarette he let nearly burn down to nothing while watching events unfold. He ground the butt against the sole of his boot and flicked it away. "Nice costume, Malfoy."

"I'm on prefect duty," Draco said as he walked up to Blaise.

"Whatever," Blaise dismissed. "You just couldn't think of anything else to wear." He truly hated Draco in prefect mode. He became a truly insufferable, arrogant git with delusions of power.

"What are you doing out here anyhow?" Draco asked, pointedly ignoring the remark. "I thought you'd be off slutting about in the Hall."

Blaise snorted. "Oh, I was." He saw no sense in telling him what happened; after all, he had nearly forgotten about it himself after the Potter/Finch-Fletchley display. "I'm just taking a break." He would have liked to shove his hands into his pockets then, and he cursed himself for being such a stickler for the genuine article. He settled for running a hand through his spiky hair. It was the only liberty he took with the costume, other than the boots and the eyeliner. Because, after all, it looked *really* good.

"McGonagall must have really rattled you. You're usually a much better liar," Draco said smugly. Blaise narrowed his eyes. "I ran into Snape. He told me I should go find you and make sure you weren't taking your humiliation out on the first years."

"Tell me, Malfoy," Blaise said as he popped his neck and straightened to his full height, leaning right into Draco. "Do you really think you're in control of this situation?" Draco just smirked. Obviously he did, and Blaise thought this the perfect time to disabuse him of the notion.

In a blink, Blaise grabbed Malfoy and whirled him around, back to chest, with Blaise's arm around Malfoy's neck, knife in his face, erection digging into his ass. "I should cut that smirk right off. But that might be counterproductive." Draco had gone completely still when Blaise attacked. He wasn't scared, exactly. Blaise had never really hurt him before. Besides, those times when he seemed to go off the deep end usually ended in exceptional sex. He just needed to wait.

Blaise pressed on. "So, Malfoy. What would you do if you were in control here? Would you push me to my knees, my kilt spread out around me like a little girl's skirt while you fuck my face?" Draco was trembling now, whether in anticipation or anxiety Blaise didn't know. Didn't care. "Would you grab my wrist and wrench my arm behind my back, making me drop the knife? March me back to the dorm, whispering in my ear all the way, telling me just how long I'm going to have to wait to come, because you're going to fuck me every way I've ever fucked you and then some?" His voice was mocking as he let go and stepped away. "Or would you just stand there quivering because you don't know what to do? Wouldn't know what to do with control if it were handed to you on a silver platter." Draco just stood there. Blaise shook his head. "Thought so."

Blaise put the knife away and started to walk off with a dismissive wave. Draco turned at the sound of the footsteps. "Fuck you, Zabini," he called.

Blaise stopped, turning his head to sneer at Draco. "You don't have the balls, Malfoy." He started back towards the door.

Clenching his fists, Draco ran and tackled Blaise, knocking him to the ground face-first. Blaise laughed, vastly entertained by Malfoy's response. "Well, that was unexpected. But what are you going to do now?"

The laughter enraged Draco. He grabbed both of Blaise's hands and held them against the ground above Blaise's head with one hand. With the other he opened his robe. "Don't have the balls?" he ground out as he unfastened his trousers. He stroked himself a couple times, then lifted Blaise's kilt, exposing the bare ass. "I should have known," he said, shaking his head. It didn't occur to him to question why he was having an easy time keeping the other boy pinned down. Blaise was merely squirming, not struggling.

"You'd better have some decent lube, Malfoy, or this'll hurt you, too," Blaise pointed out, no longer laughing, but still grinning.

"I've got it," Draco said as he dug in his trouser pocket with his free hand. "With you and your moods, I *have* to keep some around."

"It better not be that shite you had last time." A literally sore subject, Blaise knew.

"No, it's not! Now would you just shut the fuck up?" Draco snapped. He had managed to free the lube from his pocket and he hastily slicked himself before grudgingly preparing Blaise (because while Draco would hardly admit it, he knew Blaise was right. He had already hurt himself knocking Blaise down, he certainly didn't want to get hurt fucking him). Blaise grunted at the abrupt intrusion by two of Draco's fingers, but refrained from any verbal commentary. Prep was prep, even if minimal.

"Fuck!" Draco gasped as he worked his cock in. "So fucking *tight*!" _Too_ tight, really. The sensation was unbelievably intense, and Draco knew he wasn't going to last. At all. He had barely gotten fully seated before he was compelled to start thrusting madly. In a minute it was over, and he collapsed onto Blaise's back.

"Are you quite finished?" Blaise was decidedly unimpressed.

Draco was in a post-orgasmic haze. "Hmm?" he mumbled into Blaise's shoulder.

"Would you get off me already?"

Draco pulled out and got to his feet, his spent cock dangling outside his trousers as he offered a hand up to Blaise. Blaise allowed himself to be helped up, firmly gripping Draco's hand. The second he was upright, he flung Draco up against the greenhouse wall, spun him around, and held him there, face against the wall, with an arm against his neck, leaning in with all his weight. He yanked down Draco's pants with his free hand, then dug out the lube he had tucked away in his sporran.

Blaise kicked Draco's feet apart as he liberally applied the lube to himself. Without warning, he slammed his cock in, sheathing himself completely in one stroke. He paused then, refusing to rush. He kept Draco pinned by the neck, one hand on his hip. He pulled nearly all the way out, slowly, before sliding back in. He maintained a steady rhythm, gradually increasing the tempo. Draco's whimpers made him want to pound the other boy into the wall, but he resisted the urge.

After long, nearly breathless minutes, Blaise finally began thrusting in earnest, ruthlessly fucking Draco into the wall. He gasped loudly as his orgasm, fueled by the arousal that had been building since spotting Potter and Finch-Fletchley, washed over him.

He stood panting against Draco, against the greenhouse, for a moment or two before taking a deep breath and stepping back, his kilt and sporran falling neatly back into place. Draco stayed pressed up to the wall, his eyes closed.

Blaise brushed the dirt off his knees, then straightened and started to walk off. He stopped and looked back. "_Never_ let your guard down, Malfoy. It's the fastest way to lose control."

And that, he tells himself, is where the night started going wrong. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm sure you have more prefecting duty to do... I myself need to have a little chat with Professor McGonagall."


End file.
